Point to Point
by sniperrifle001
Summary: 5x06 AU. Matthew helps Mary prepare for the race.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Pure fluff, a nice contrast to the longer story I am currently working on and I thought it would be a nice treat for the faithful readers who have been following "The Collected Letters". This is a story that takes place simultaneously in "The Collected Letters" AU and in a 5x06 AU, so it doesn't matter if you follow my other story or not. It still makes sense. It's not plot heavy anyways so it doesn't really matter. Still there are little details in it that suggest a different continuity. Anyways, I think I gave quite a fright to some of the "The Collected Letters" readership so here's something to calm the nerves.

**P****oint to Point**

"Are you sure you won't ride with me?" Mary asked as she mounted her horse.

"I don't think so," Matthew answered as he made his way to his horse.

Mary watched lustfully as her husband mount his steed. He wasn't graceful, no he had never quite been that. He was far more William the Conqueror on a horse than he was Lancelot. But he was capable all the same, masculine in the way that masculinity had been redefined in the post-war years. Although in most other ways he was still quite the familiar country gentlemen.

"But you'll help me practice," Mary said incredulously, staring at his back as it heaved up and down while Matthew adjust himself.

"Darling, I would help you with anything," Matthew said as he turned his horse around to face Mary and hers.

"I don't see how, you've never rode in a race before either," Mary said.

"No, but I'd like to think a few hundred Carabiniers with sabres and rifles just moments behind you is something akin to a race, I'd imagine" Matthew said as he positioned his mount behind Mary's.

Mary momentarily forgotten all about that. Of course she was aware of his service in the war, not a day goes by when she doesn't see the remnants of that horrible time in his life on his body. But she had forgotten that there was a few months during the early days that he had been in a cavalry regiment.

How could she have forgotten? It was then that she first saw him in London after a year long absence. It was the night they first kissed again after Mary had refused his proposal before the war. It was a bittersweet memory that she didn't often revisit. Those years were not pleasant and her relationship with Matthew at the time was strained to say the least.

"Now, do you remember the course?" Matthew said as he pulled out a small revolver from his breast pocket.

"Yes, yes," Mary said impatiently as she stared down the field, imagining it superimposed with the map that Matthew had forced her to learn earlier in the morning, "you know for a person who doesn't want to race, you seem far more committed to it than I am."

"I just want you to do well, darling," Matthew replied.

"And you think that will earn you some good will from me later tonight?" Mary asked as she began to blush.

"I'm counting on it," Matthew replied gleefully.

Mary looked back at him and shot him a mischievous glance. However expression quickly morphed into one of pure dread.

"Are you going to shoot me with that?" Mary asked in shock.

"Of course not," Matthew answered with a throaty chuckle, "but we have to simulate the jumps somehow."

"And we couldn't just draw some lines?" Mary asked, still feeling rather indignant.

"Well we could," Matthew said with a rakish smile as he stared lovingly at his wife, "but where's the fun in that?"

"Matthew, you are too dangerous when you are on a horse," Mary remarked, "it's like you become a different person."

"And you wonder why I won't race," Matthew replied.

"Well, Tony Gillingham is racing so perhaps it is for the best," Mary said as her shock receded.

"I have no quarrel with Tony," Matthew said innocently.

"Yes, but he has quarrel with you," Mary replied.

"Is he still mad about that?" Matthew asked, "How could he be? It's been years."

"You don't think your dear wife is worth holding a lifelong grudge?" Mary said in shock, this time however, it was a little more disingenuous.

"Stop stalling," Matthew answered as he skillfully evaded her trap. He had been with her far too long to make such rookie mistakes.

They began to ride, Mary first with Matthew following behind. They made their way around the track with Matthew shouting things like "pace yourself" and "don't worry about the overeager frontrunners" which quickly got on Mary's nerves. Not to mention every time he fired the pistol into the air she would nearly fall out of her saddle. And as if it weren't embarrassing enough Matthew would make some kind of vulgar comment about how her round bottom not being quite suited to the curvature of the saddle, she wasn't sure, she had decided to stop listening to him after a while.

However whenever they hit a sharp turn, Matthew would inevitably overtake Mary and they would have to stop and reset. Matthew just found it to be a nuisance to lose all their momentum but he didn't mind too much. His patience was legendary and had only gotten more practiced after being married to Lady Mary Crawley. But it hurt Mary's pride whenever this happened. Afterall, the first time they met, she had made some rude remark on how Matthew probably couldn't ride. And now to have him outpace her so flawlessly and so effortlessly was infuriating, but also a little bit… stimulating.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to race?" Mary said through her heavy panting, "you seem much better at this than me?"

"Don't be silly, you're doing fine, darling," Matthew said absently as he checked his pocket watch, "but you really need to watch your speed when you come through the corners, you're swinging wide every time."

"You're such a know-it-all," Mary said with a pout, "I've been riding far longer than you."

"Would you prefer to chase me?" Matthew asked playfully.

Mary shirked his eyes. She knew he was right, turning had never been her forte. During the hunts, she could more or less choose her own routes so she always planned around sharp turns. But this race followed a single path and there was no way of avoiding them. It was infuriating because Matthew looked like an idiot when he rode at full speed, leaned over, as if to see through the eye level of the horse, he looked more like a Mongol horse archer than a proper English equestrian. And the way his hand instinctively seemed to point and draw these phantom swings as he were holding a sabre made him appear utterly ridiculous. And yet, for all of his embarrassing theatrics he seemed to command the beast perfectly.

"No, let's start again," Mary said sullenly.

Sensing his wife's annoyance and disappointment, he motioned his mount next to hers. He gently placed his hand on her cheek and turned her to face him. He greeted her with a warm smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek. She instantly melted in his hand. She always did.

"What's wrong, my darling?" Matthew asked lovingly in a low whisper.

"Nothing," she answered as she began to blush again, "I'm just being a brat."

"Well, I love you, whoever you're being," Matthew replied.

Their lips met. It was gentle and sweet, just what she needed. He always knew just what kind of kiss she needed at what exact moment.

"I love your new haircut," Matthew whispered.

"Thank you!" Mary said with a heavy sigh as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, "I was waiting for you to say something about it."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I promise I'm not going to turn this into a giant multi-chapter tome. But I felt like I had to finish this race plotline. You'll probably notice there's no George in this chapter, that's "The Collected Letters" AU element, but I won't say anymore about that. Too many potential spoilers in here for that story anyways. But, if you are reading my other story and you're tired of its consistent heaviness, here's a nice little break. God knows that's why I wrote this in the first place.

**Chapter 2**

"Wheee!" Sybbie said as held up her hands in exhilaration.

"Hold on to the reigns, Sybbie!" Matthew said looking up at her trying to get her to calm down.

She dropped her hands immediately and her shoulders slumped in disappointment. She flared her little nostrils and pouted indiscreetly. If she had been getting less cute because she was growing aware of her own charms, it certainly didn't lessen its effects on Matthew.

"When can I get a pony, Uncle Matthew?" Sybbie asked.

"I'm not sure your father would like that very much," Matthew said as he led Sybbie and her mount in the round pen.

"Daddy will say no," Sybbie said as she deepened her frown.

"That's probably true," Matthew concurred.

He could feel her silent disappointment burning a hole in the back of his head. She was picking up bad habits from her Aunt Mary.

"But, I'll put in a good word with your daddy," Matthew said pretending to whisper a secret to Sybbie, "I'll get Donk on board. He'll definitely be on our side."

Sybbie giggled profusely. It had occurred to him that she may be spoiling Sybbie rotten, but who could blame him, she said he was her favourite. Now it could be that she just said that to everyone but she didn't seem to have the temperament for that kind of manipulation. At least not yet, but if she kept up the irresistible giggling and the very practiced and calculated pouting, Violet may grow an interest in taking her on as a protege. What a frightening thought.

"What's this?" a familiar but oddly high register voice came approaching, "who's this on my horse?"

Sybbie turned her head to look, her face immediately lit up, "Aunt Mary!"

"Why, hello, my darling!" Mary said as she stretched out her arms to receive her.

"Careful!" Matthew interjected as he rushed over to lift Sybbie out of the saddle and transport her into Mary's arms.

"So, what do you think of Trumpeter?" Mary said affecting her best child-friendly voice, she was getting quite proficient.

"I love him!" Sybbie said as she threw her arms into the arm once again.

Matthew smiled as he leisurely walked Mary's horse out of the round pen and back into stables. Mary and Sybbie followed close behind. They were careful to keep out of sight of the rest of the family, Mary hadn't told anyone except Matthew that she planned to ride in the race. She knew that Robert would be hesitant and that Cora would be scared to death. Violet, well, some things are a lost cause before they even begin.

"Uncle Matthew said he's going to get me a pony!" Sybbie said to Mary.

"He did, did he?" Mary asked as she turned and gave Matthew an accusatory look.

"I said, I would try," Matthew said defensively.

"Tom's not going to be happy about that," Mary replied.

"Daddy is blahhh" Sybbie said while making a face.

"Be nice to your daddy," Mary said lightly scolding her before leaning in and touching her nose to Sybbie's, "he takes care of us all. We don't want to get on his bad side."

"We certainly don't," Matthew concurred.

Once they had reached the stables, Mary passed Sybbie to Matthew and began on readjusting the saddle for herself.

"Let's go see Donk and Grandmama, shall we?" Matthew said.

"Okay…" Sybbie said reluctantly, affecting her pout once again.

"How about, we'll let you ride Trumpeter a bit more after the race?" Mary asked Sybbie as she gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Okay," Sybbie repeated but this time with a genuine smile upon her face.

"Oh and you," Mary pointed devilishly at Matthew, "Tony and Charles are here today so be nice."

"I'm always nice," Matthew replied.

"He's always nice, Aunt Mary," Sybbie concurred with an enthusiastic nod.

"Oh God, she's learning to suck up," Mary said with a faux-exasperated sigh, "it won't get you your pony any sooner, you know."

* * *

><p>Escaping the blistering sun as fast as possible as Sybbie had taken possession of Matthew's hat, he rushed towards the tent, nearly bumping into Mabel. For a moment, he didn't recognize her. They had only met once before in London and in brief and had no idea that she was even coming to this event.<p>

"Oh hello," Matthew said politely.

"Mr. Matthew, how nice to see you again," Mabel said.

"Likewise," Matthew replied.

"Mhmm…" Sybbie said as played with the rim of Matthew's hat.

"Oh right," Matthew said with a hint of embarrassment, "Miss Lane Fox, may I present, my niece, Sybil Branson. Sybil, this is Miss Lane Fox."

"People call me Sybbie," Sybbie said as she held out her hand.

"Then I shall do the same," Mabel said, impressed by the girl's forthrightness and confidence and shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you Miss Lane Fox," Sybbie remarked, "you have a very pretty name."

"As do you," Mabel said with a glowing smile.

They made their way over to the tent. Tony and Charles were already there. Tony was sitting with Rose conversing with her. Charles sat by himself, nervously staring out at the track, perhaps envisioning victory and trying to will it out of thin air. Matthew placed Sybbie into Cora's lap but not before waving her little hand at Mabel, concluding their introduction.

"Quite the well mannered young lady," Mabel remarked to Matthew.

"She takes after Mary quite a bit," Matthew said, "it's a little frightening, actually."

"I can imagine," Mabel commented.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Tony said as Mabel and Matthew made their way across his path.

"What do you think? Riding the point to point," Mabel replied a little defensively.

Tony got up and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Well, won't someone introduce us?" Robert said as he got up out of his chair.

"Oh, of course," Matthew said, "Miss Mabel Lane Fox, Lord Grantham. She's one of Mary's friends."

Mabel made a polite gesture of nodding to Robert.

"Well," Robert said, "I wasn't aware Mary had any friends."

Mabel could barely contain her laughter, so she split the difference by flashing a wide grin.

"So, her Papa has a sense of humour, does he?" Mabel said as she and Matthew made their way around to the back.

"Not usually, he seems to be in a good mood today," Matthew replied.

"Where are you staying?" Charles asked as he got up from his seat and approached Matthew and Mabel.

"Last night I was staying with the Lawsons at Brough but they are away to night so I'll head back up to London," Mabel replied.

"What a trek, you'll be exhausted," Charles said.

"You're perfectly welcome to stay with us, Lord Gillingham and Mr. Blake will be there," Cora interjected.

"Have you brought enough clothes?" Violet asked.

"Oh, I think so," Mabel answered with an over enthusiastic expression.

Just then, Mary and Atticus approached from the other side of the tent. Mary was dressed in her riding clothes, astonishing Robert when he turned to look at her.

"What's this? Where have you been?" Robert asked.

"Mr. Aldridge and I fixed it last night. His nice parents allowed me to change at their house," Mary answered as they stepped into the tent.

"I wish, you would call me Atticus," Atticus said.

"I must say, I admire you," Robert commented approvingly.

"It would be a poor show not to ride at our own event," Atticus replied.

"Quite right, I shall cheer you on," Rose said, making not-so-subtle eyes at him.

"What about you? When did you decide to ride?" Robert asked Mary.

"Yesterday, when I was getting my hair done in York," Mary answered.

"What about a horse?" Robert asked.

"Matthew rode Trumpeter over earlier this morning," Mary answered.

"This was your idea?" Robert asked as he turned his attention to Matthew, who was at that very moment stuffing his face with strawberries.

He looked up, for a moment all eyes were on him. He couldn't understand why, Mary was the one riding. Perhaps, it was the inordinate amount of fruits that currently occupied his mouth.

"Matthew, you're nearly 40 years old, chew properly," Isobel said as she gently slapped him with her glove.

"Uncle Matthew is old!" Sybbie exclaimed with a giggle.

"No, she wanted to ride. All I did was help," Matthew said after viciously chewing and swallowing.

"You aren't riding yourself?" Charles asked.

"No, no, I don't ride," Matthew said, waving his hands as if pleading innocence.

"Well why not? You couldn't have rode all the way here from Downton if you couldn't ride," Tony asked.

"Oh, I don't… really… follow the hunt," Matthew stuttered as he leaned back in his chair.

"That's right, Matthew only rides when his cavalry regiment friends come to visit, don't you?" Mary said as she made her way across the tent and took a seat next to him.

"Well, you make it sound very foolish," Matthew remarked.

"Did I mention, that they spent the better portion of that morning, rummaging through the attic, looking for the the First Earl's cuirass so that they could ride around playing make-believe, Battle of Waterloo," Mary said eyeing everyone intently, much to Matthew's embarrassment.

"That's what you rascals were up to that day?" Robert asked, suddenly becoming very interested.

"And did you find it?" Mabel asked, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Didn't… really fit…" Matthew answered awkwardly.

"I thought you were injured at Passchendaele," Tony asked suspiciously, "I thought the only cavalry regiments there that day were the Canadians."

"This was way before then," Matthew answered.

"What regiment?" he persisted.

"Sixth Dragoons," Matthew answered.

"The King's Carabiniers?" Atticus remarked, "Impressive."

"You didn't mention you were married to a knight," Mabel said, eyeing Mary with a novel look.

"He's not quite a knight until he can fit himself into that armour," Mary said as she bit her lips and dragged her glove across his chest.

"Men on average were smaller back then!" Matthew said nearly stumbling over his words, "I heard the First Earl was barely five feet tall!"

"Should we count ourselves lucky that you are not our competition?" Charles asked.

"I don't think so, I'm sure you're all far more beautiful on a horse than me," Matthew replied.

"If only it were a beauty contest," Tony interjected.

"Then my lovely wife would take every prize," Matthew said as he sat up and place a chivalric kiss on her cheek, which she received gracefully and stoically.

* * *

><p>It was their turn and the tent quickly emptied out of the riders, leaving, Robert, Cora, Violet, Isobel, Matthew, and Sybbie behind to cheer them on. Mary walked with Atticus up to their starting positions. She noticed his shaking hands as he tried to put on his gloves.<p>

"Let me not fall in front of Rose," he said to Mary under his breath.

"I'm glad her opinion matters," Mary replied.

"I'd rather not look a fool quite yet," he joked nervously, "she can discover it gently."

Mary let out a soft chuckle as they separated when she got to her horse. Of course she was stationed next to Mabel. Not that she despised the girl or anything but it was undeniably awkward between them since she nearly married Tony. Mary wasn't quite sure what the situation was between Mabel and Tony before they met and she never bothered to ask but she knew that Mabel harboured some resentment towards her, the rest Mary could surmise on her own.

"I'm dying to ride astride," Mary said as she mounted her horse.

"Why don't you?" Mabel asked.

"Not if my grandmother's watching," Mary answered.

"You surprise me, you seem more than able to choose which laws to keep and which to break," Mabel said as she looked forward.

"Don't be spiky, when I only want what you want," Mary said as politely as she could.

"Which is?" Mabel asked incredulously.

"For you and Tony to walk into the sunset together," Mary answered plainly.

"I do despise you," Mabel let out in a moment of rare bluntness, "I resent your ability to take him off me, when you ended up jilting him and marrying Matthew in the end. Especially, when I've always loved him more than you ever did."

"I think that's all true," Mary replied.

"Then why turn up looking like a cross between a Vogue fashion plate and a case of dynamite?" Mabel asked.

"Well, I can't make it too easy for him," Mary said as she looked over into Mabel's eyes for the first time since they mounted.

Mabel looked away with an undeniable grin on her face, "sometimes I wonder if you honestly do love your husband."

Mary did her utmost to be civil. She was willing to admit to herself that she was poking at both Tony and Charles and even a little at Mabel. And perhaps it was indeed a little cruel. But Lady Mary Crawley was a little cruel. But the insinuation that she didn't love Matthew, greatly enraged her. Still she kept it under control, made no face, for that's what Mabel wanted. If she did, she would lose the exchange. No, she was going to do more than that. She _was_ going to let Mabel finish before her so that it would draw Tony's attention as per Charles' plan. But not anymore, she was going to trounce this bitch.

_Mind the corners._

* * *

><p>"They're just about ready to go," Robert said intently as he looked through his binoculars.<p>

"Can I have a look, Donk?" Sybbie said, much to the annoyance of Robert.

Matthew chuckled underneath his breath as he held Sybbie in his arms. He tried not to be obvious, but it had been a while and slow as Robert was, he was starting to get the suspicion that Matthew taught Sybbie that ridiculous nickname and was perpetuating its use. Still, he wasn't ready to make any accusations yet. He simply handed over the binoculars to Matthew, who placed them over Sybbie's eyes.

"Do you see, Aunt Mary?" Matthew asked.

"Yes."

Cora, Violet, and Isobel stood a little further back in the tent.

"I think she's splendid," Isobel said.

"I think she's cracked," Violet replied, voicing her disapproval once again.

"It's good to do some crazy things when you're young," Isobel replied.

"As long as you survive them," Cora added.

"Some do crazy things all their lives," Violet remarked with a hint of a chuckle, "what answer did you give?"

"I'm going to tell them when we're all together," Isobel said, "you won't give me away?"

"You mean, you've accepted him?" Violet asked.

"I know you think me foolish but I feel it's my last chance at a new adventure before I'm done," Isobel answered.

"Well, now that you've accepted him, you'll hear no argument from me," Violet said looking at Isobel, offering her an olive branch at last, "but have you told Matthew?"

"Oh, I don't think he'll mind," Isobel said, "I think he's quite fond of Lord Merton. He said so the night he stood up for Tom before he and Mary's wedding."

* * *

><p>They all lined up at the starting line. The crowds gathered and were quite rambunctious, which managed to startle Trumpeter a bit. Mary had to stroke him behind the ear and into his mane to get him to calm down. She watched the lane while the rest of them watched the gun. Despite her annoyance at Matthew's constant pestering and tips from the day before she had managed to absorb a lot of it. She started off slow and trailed the main pack, avoiding the frenzy that would inevitably come at the first jump.<p>

And so it did. She was a few seconds behind but at least managed not to get knocked off her horse like some unfortunates. After the second jump, Mary started to speed up. She rode easily passed Charles and flashed him a friendly smile. Poor man, he was much too small for the horse he was riding.

She then caught up to Tony and Mabel after the third jump and trailed them. Tony looked over his shoulder and found Mary in hot pursuit. Then came the sharpest corner of the course, Mary dropped the speed and focus on the turn. Tony's attention faltered, as he held his gaze backwards a little too long, forcing him and Mabel, who was on his outside to turn wider than they should have. Seizing on the opportunity, Mary bursted forth and zipped passed them.

Approaching the finish line, there was only one rider between her and Atticus. She went for it. For a second she thought she might've had a chance but the finish line came too quickly and alas she couldn't overtake him. Slowing down she found herself a little depressed despite being first amongst the women and third overall.

After dismounting, Charles approached Mary.

"You might've allowed her to be the first woman," Charles said as he took off his gloves.

"I was, but then she said something rather rude to me before we got started," Mary said.

"Has she ever really been nice to you?" Charles asked.

"This was different, she crossed a line, so to speak," Mary said as they began to walk.

"What could she have possibly said?" Charles asked.

"It doesn't concern you," Mary answered bluntly, "and by the way, your plan won't work."

"You rode well," Tony said as he walked with Mabel passed Mary and Charles.

"If I make it across the finishing line at all, it's a miracle as far as I'm concerned," Mabel said with a heavy shrug.

"Nonsense, you're a positive centaur," Tony said with a genuine grin on his face.

"See, he's nearly there, if you'd just stop jerking his lead," Charles said.

"I meant the other part of your plan," Mary said.

"What other part?"

Mary accelerated her pace, distancing herself from Charles before looking back and mouthing again_ it won't work_.

Matthew approached her with Sybbie in his arms. When Mary recieved them, she gave each a kiss on the cheek.

"How was I?" Mary asked Sybbie.

"Fast!" Sybbie answered, again, shooting her hands into the air.

"You were magnificent," Matthew said.

She placed her arm on his shoulder and played with the golden lochs of hair near the nape of his neck. She stared at him, deeply, longingly, with those eyes, unarmoured and unprotected, those eyes that felt tears and expressed real emotions, the eyes she only wore around him, allowed only him to see. And of course, he recognized them immediately.

"Darling, what's wrong?" Matthew asked.

She reached in and passionately kissed him.

"I do so love you very much," Mary whispered as she broke their kiss, "I hope you know this. I rode today, for you. I do everything for you."

Matthew smiled and kissed her back, gently and quick, the kiss he used to calm her nerves.

"Of course, I know, " Matthew answered.

Mary smiled again, feeling that glowing happiness that had become a common element of her life now. She enjoyed it no less than the first time she felt it with him. For she had felt it with no other. She knew how much she loved him and he knew it too; she didn't need to prove it to Mabel.

"Now," Mary said, trying to suppress a little sniffle, "who wants to ride Trumpeter some more?"

"Meee!" Sybbie said as held up her hands in exhilaration.


End file.
